What Have I Been Doing All This Time?
by BrokenWings2602
Summary: Drizella begins to question her self-worth. One-shot.


**This one-shot is inspired from Alianne-Graysie's crossover fanfic God Help The Outcasts, particularly the third chapter where Drizella begins to gain a sense of self and she realizes that she no longer wants to be in her mother's control. It struck something within me, as I relate to her at that moment.**

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"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!"

Lady Tremaine exclaimed with delight at the sight of her "effort". She just finished putting the final touch for Drizella's look: an oversized turquoise bow with enormous green-yellow feathers. They got another invitation to attend another ball...again. Drizella had lost count how many times she and her mother got invites after invites yet they seem to have no results at all.

She checked her reflection in the mirror and pouted. Sure, the green gown with teal and yellow details complimented her greatly, but the small ribbons decorating the skirt made the overall gown look tacky. Not to mention the sewn pink and purple gemstones. They're everywhere. And the white ruffles and frills didn't help at all.

She examined her black hair, which had been styled into ringlets. Her mother had put hours into putting them in great shape and making sure that they would remain intact by spraying them countless times. As a result, Drizella's hair became stiff.

"You will outshine all of the other ladies at the ball!" Lady Tremaine's voice brought Drizella's mind back to reality.

"Mother, I look like a walking present," the younger Tremaine said.

"That's the point, child. You will be a gift to whoever choose you as his future wife," her mother replied.

Drizella frowned. Her mother had just openly insulted her again.

" _And don't fail me this time_ ," Lady Tremaine added with a warning.

Drizella practically felt herself slumping with defeat. There's no arguing with her mother. No matter what, Lady Tremaine always win.

But for this moment Drizella felt angry at her mother. She felt defiant. Sick of her mother's constant belittlements and mockeries, all of which disguised as loving compliments and comforting lies. Between the Tremaine sisters, Drizella has always been the more clever one. So it's a head-scratcher for her how did Anastasia gather the strength to stand up from their mother after both girls suffered years of indirect abuse and parental neglect.

"Mother, can I go to the bathroom?" Drizella requested, wanting to get away from her mother as fast as she could.

"Make it quick!" Lady Tremaine replied.

The moment Drizella reached the bathroom, she was in tears. She ripped the bow from her hair and threw it to the floor. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she saw tears were flowing, leaving trails on her powdered face. In a rage, she snatched a nearby towel and dumped it in the water-filled basin, then proceed to wiped her face clean.

She looked back and noticed that she still wore the garish green gown her mother had chosen for her, along with her perfectly styled - but fake - hair. She felt angry tears surging again.

She untied her gown and wriggling out of it, leaving her in her white cotton underdress and bloomers. Then she washed her hair thoroughly, fingers digging through the grease that was holding her hair in those tight, stiff curls. When she's finished, her hair was damp, completely wet with water dripping, but she felt much, much better.

For a moment, she felt a slight fear at the sight of herself. _Mother's going to kill me_ , she thought. But soon that thought was replaced by indifference. _But I don't care_.

 _I don't care. I don't care. I don't care!_

Drizella repeated the sentence in her mind like a chant, as a way of telling herself that she had reach her limits.

 _I don't care anymore._

Taking a deep breath, she muster the courage to confront her mother as she slowly opened the bathroom door. She looked left and right, but her mother was nowhere in sight.

Stepping out, she walked back to her bedroom and there was Lady Tremaine, arms crossed with her eyes glaring at Drizella.

"Where have you – What in the world are you doing?!" the older woman's expression shifted from angry to shock, at the sight of her daughter's current condition.

 _Here goes nothing_ , Drizella thought.

"Mother, I'm not going to the ball," she said with her head held high.

"You're _not_ going?" Lady Tremaine asked, voice raising as a sign of warning.

The tone in her voice made Drizella consider her decision - she even considered telling her mother that she didn't feeling well, which is partially true, since the gown' tight bodice made her difficult to breathe - but she remained firm to her resolve.

"No, I'm not. I'm not a doll that you can dress-up and play with whenever you like!" she stated.

Lady Tremaine's eyes widened at her daughter's tone of voice. She had never heard her oldest daughter rebel before. She narrowed her eyes in anger, but Drizella didn't even flinch, let alone blinking.

Slowly, a cruel smirk was forming on the older woman's lips, her mind calculating what kind of punishment would be appropriate to teach her daughter a lesson for her behavior earlier.

"Very well, we won't go to the ball at all," Lady Tremaine replied, voice remained calm and collected, but Drizella could detect the threat and venom hidden beneath the civil respond.

Her mother left her alone, the soft _swish_ of the older woman's gown sweeping the floor was the last thing she heard. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

 _I did it. I did it. I did it!_ she thought in triumph, fists pumped in the air.

But then she remembered the way her mother looked at her. She couldn't forget the malicious glint in her mother's eyes. Knowing Lady Tremaine, she _always_ came up with unexpected methods to get what she wanted, whether it's through threats or indirect manipulation. The latter was particularly more than enough to made Drizella kept her guard up.

She tried to think of every single material possessions that she owned, and as far as she knows, none of them had a truly high (sentimental) value for her, so she would still own them. But her mother's smile – that cold, unsettling smile – filled her with dread. Because it mean her mother had a plan. And not a very good one.

What could possibly go wrong?

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 **Since English isn't my first language, feel free to point out any grammar mistakes and/or errors that I may accidentally typed. I'd really appreciate it. Thank you!**


End file.
